


Hindsight

by elevenstrikes



Category: Psycho-Pass
Genre: Drabble, Gen, Prologue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-18
Updated: 2014-12-18
Packaged: 2018-03-02 02:20:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2796131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elevenstrikes/pseuds/elevenstrikes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Introspective Ginoza POV ficlet.  Major spoilers for the end of S1.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hindsight

Since his father’s death and his ex-partner’s disappearance, Ginoza Nobuchika has discovered different methods for letting go, and others yet for holding on.

The first thing to go was the arm. This, of course, was not by choice. The second that he realized no amount of yelling, stonewalling, or persecuting would bring about the outcome he desired, or reverse time to its nearest critical branching point, he felt anything but his arm. For one precious minute, his blood was an ugly mess on the floor indistinguishable from the old man’s. When light faded from those desperate eyes, he felt anything but his arm.

The next thing to go was his Psycho Pass. He doesn’t remember much between the emergency vascular surgery and psychotropic therapy, but one day he looked down, and there, light pink scars affixed warm flesh to cool metal. He flexed the elbow joint and willed the hand into a fist. A cheery holographic sprite encouraged him to repeat these motions and more, for optimal rehabilitation, it said. White walls, soft classical music, and a periodic mist with a sweet scent that soon grew to be unbearable contrasted almost comically with the looming, hue monitor display.

He dreamt of his father at night, and spent his days studying the murky hue monitor with its overlaid numbers—higher than they had ever been—wondering at his lack of distress. He couldn’t be sure whether it was the medication, or the fact that the bitterness he’d carried with him for years was suddenly nowhere to be found.

When Tsunemori informed him of his qualifying aptitude score as a potential Enforcer, he discarded the glasses. Or more precisely, he stopped including them in his inventory request list. Whether they had been withheld for evidence, therapy reasons, or had simply never been recovered from the scene, he never knew. It was only when he tried to push nonexistent glasses up the bridge of his nose that he realized how uncomfortable they had been all along.

Chief Kasei must have known he’d accept the position. Why else would they have given him the arm? When informed that his crime coefficient was beyond recovery, he might have elected to be an incarcerated amputee for the rest of his days. But that was impossible, of course. After all, he was his father’s son.

-

Cool, crisp air ignored his blazer lining and uniform button-down, seeping into his skin on the morning he approached Masaoka’s grave. It was at the end of the row, half-covered in shadow and sunlight. A bouquet of flowers, a few bottles of his dad’s favorite sake, and a set of keys neatly lined the grave in tribute. The pressure in his chest grew more pronounced at the sight of them, but he was also ready for this. 

Kneeling on the concrete, Ginoza closed his eyes, inhaling slowly. He opened his lips to begin reciting a few, formal lines he had prepared ahead of time.

Except he couldn’t quite get the words out. Instead he tasted something like the ash of cigarettes in his mouth, and shivered. All around, the silence seemed to wait for him. His father was… no, his dad was…

Ginoza stood, and haltingly at first, began telling his dad all of the things that he wanted to say. 

He had meant to be brief, but lost track of how much time actually passed. Remembering how Inspector Tsunemori waited for him below in the parking lot, he said his farewell and made ready to leave when his eyes caught sight of the keys on the grave again. He fixed his attention onto it for a moment. Comprehension dawned at last, and he smiled faintly.

_Thank you, Shinya. Take care of yourself, wherever you are._

**Author's Note:**

> Originally conceived for Ginoza's Birthday Challenge, #ginozasdirty30, issued by psychosybil on Tumblr.


End file.
